He stood at the bus stop
Black coat soaking wet,
The rain was pouring down,
Was his face one of regret?
No, he was quite happy
So glad to have took a walk
As, while all others looked glum
And had no cheerful talk
His outlook was much brighter
Even though he had been told
That cancer had taken root,
In his body it got a hold.
That rainfall, like pools of tears
Reflected their sad faces
Yet, to him it was a lovely day
Where no hint of mournful traces
Could be seen inside his eyes,
A young man composed, serene,
Standing with head raised high
For this lovely day he was keen.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very nice, illustrated and cooperted I love it very much! Thanks for sharing